Wild World

The Evolutionary Accident That Made Rottnest Island a Paradise for Fearless Marsupials I’ve watched a quokka eat a leaf three inches from my shoe.

I used to think jellyfish were basically floating bags of stinging cells—no brain, no plan, just drifting wherever currents took them. Turns out I was

I used to think peregrine falcons were just, you know, really fast birds. Turns out the biomechanics are so much weirder than that. When a peregrine enters

I used to think koalas were just lazy. Then I spent three weeks in Queensland watching them, and honestly, the whole “sleeping 20 hours a day”

I used to think birds migrated because they hated cold weather, which—honestly—seemed like the most obvious explanation until I actually looked into it.

I used to think skunks were just raccoons with bad PR. Then I spent three weeks following a wildlife biologist through the Cascade foothills, watching

I used to think humpback whales were just these gentle giants, you know, singing their songs and minding their own business in the deep blue. Turns out, they’

I used to think sneezing was just a thing mammals did when dust got up their noses. Then I spent three weeks on the Galápagos Islands watching marine iguanas—these

I used to think wolves howled at the moon, like some kind of Disney cliche, until I spent three freezing nights in Yellowstone watching a pack coordinate a hunt.

I used to think torpor was just hibernation’s less famous cousin, something small mammals did when they couldn’t afford the full winter shutdown.